


Stitches

by misura



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 5 Things, Community: comment_fic, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times John had to stitch himself up after a case and one time Sherlock did it for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitches

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _Sherlock +/ John, five times John had to stitch himself up after a case and one time Sherlock did it for him_ by rattyjol

01.

There's an ambulance standing not so very far away, and John knows it wouldn't take much to get himself a bit of help - he's not Sherlock, no, _thank God_ he's not, but he is, by now, a familiar face and he'd like to think he's contributed to the fact that there's a seriously injured man being loaded into the ambulance, as opposed to a corpse.

He's not a hero, and he's not an idiot, and he knows he's got a nasty cut that's going to need stitches.

And then Sherlock comes walking back from where he's been spoon-feeding the hows and whys and whens to Lestrade and company, and says: "Coming?", barely waiting for John's reply before he turns on his heels, and John figures that oh, well, he can just do the stitches himself, at home, nice and cozy.

 

02.

"Nasty wound," Sherlock says, in much the same tone other, normal people might use to say 'nice weather'. "Needs stitches."

John would be touched Sherlock's noticed and is even expressing what generously might be described as 'concern' (and when it comes to Sherlock and human feelings, John is always generous; there'd be nothing to notice, otherwise) except that he's been sitting here for at least half an hour, with Sherlock being fully absorbed in updating his website or some such thing.

"Yes, I know, _thank_ you." He doesn't quite mean to snap (or actually yes, he rather does). Sherlock's got a thick skin, though; a bit of snapping might be just what the doctor's ordered in order to impress it upon Sherlock that there's a time and a place for not paying any attention to an injured friend. (To wit: never and nowhere.)

"I'm sorry, am I in your way? You should just have said something, John. It's a laptop; I can take it somewhere else." Sherlock sounds completely sincere. It's quite maddening.

John makes a heroic effort to keep his temper, or at least not to lose it completely. "I didn't - " he starts, because Sherlock leaving was _not the point_. "Yes. Please go away. _Please._ "

"You only needed to ask."

It's only after Sherlock's left the room, laptop and all, that it occurs to John that six months ago, _he'd_ have been the one to leave, because picking up a laptop and taking it to the bedroom would have been entirely too much of a bother for Sherlock.

 

03.

John's stitched up a good few people in his time; he knows how to go about it. Nothing to it, provided you know what you're doing - which goes for most of things in life, really.

Sherlock's got his laptop standing on the table, only this time, he's not pretending John's not even in the room. John might even go so far as to say Sherlock's _staring_. At him.

"Are you - do you think maybe you could not do that, please?" It's not as if John's not used to any kind of audience while he's working. In the army, there's few people who haven't got anybody (or maybe there's just a whole bloody lot of people who've got no one else, maybe that's what makes it work).

"Mm. Do what?" Sherlock says, as if his mind's been miles away, instead of, well, right here. With John.

It's this trick Sherlock's got, John's noticed. Most people fall for it, too, but John's not most people anymore, not when it comes to Sherlock. "The staring."

"Oh." Sherlock obligingly turns his attention to a spot on the wall just inches from John's face. "Better?"

"Lots," John says dryly. It's as good as this is going to get, he supposes.

"I could do that for you, you know," Sherlock says, when John's halfway done. _Of course_ he says it when John's halfway done.

"You couldn't have said this _five minutes_ ago?" John notices Sherlock doesn't look away from that spot on the wall. Must be a really bloody interesting piece of wall. "Or last month? What about last month?"

"Oh, I couldn't have done it last month," Sherlock says.

John wonders what on earth he's supposed to say to _that_ statement. _'Please don't tell me I'm the first real, actually living person you're going to be stitching up?'_ , maybe, except that John can't really imagine Sherlock actually being _bad_ at something. (Well, all right, _terrible_ social skills, granted, yes, but that's at least in part because Sherlock simply can't be bothered to make the effort.)

"Next time, then, eh?" He lifts his head, meets Sherlock's gaze. Feels himself flush ever so slightly.

 

04.

Executing any kind of medical procedure is always best done while calm and collected, John knows, but he's - he's _aggravated_ , is what he is, and this cut he's got isn't going to stitch itself, so what's a man to do? He's certainly not going to ask Sherlock bloody Holmes for any help, that's for sure.

(Poking a sharp object at a human being, John discovers, is also best done while calm and collected. Especially when the human being in question is yourself.)

 

05.

"One date," John says dazedly. His head hurts and his shoulder hurts and he's got entirely too much feeling in his leg. "One bloody date."

"Makes you wonder about the universe, doesn't it?" Sherlock's right there, unharmed, and John is probably a bad person for hating him for that for just a single second.

"What, you think there's a rule somewhere? Like 'John Watson is not allowed to go on any normal dates again, ever'?" He should ask about Sarah, John thinks. A proper boyfriend would be asking about Sarah.

Sherlock looks at something behind John. His lips curve. "Certainly would explain quite a lot, wouldn't it? Kidding."

"Hilarious."

"There's the girlfriend now." And it's probably John's imagination that Sherlock's cheer sounds forced.

"John." Or no, it's _definitely_ John's imagination that Sherlock's cheer sounds forced. Sherlock doesn't _do_ cheerful - giddy excitement at a grisly murder, yes; cheerfulness at seeing John's girlfriend, forced or otherwise, no. Sherlock only bothers faking emotions when he's on a case, and it's just him and John and Sarah now; nobody around to impress with how completely normal Sherlock isn't. "Let me take a look at your leg."

Sherlock turns away when Sarah stitches the wound the way any professional would have done. John wonders at the gesture; the sight of blood has never bothered Sherlock before, not even when it's John's.

*

01.

"John, you're staring."

"That's - " John starts, before he gets the reference, the memory. (In his defense: it's been _months_ ; happily, he doesn't need stitches all that often.) "Funny, Sherlock."

Sherlock grins. He looks, John thinks, _happy_. Not 'there's a new serial killer on the loose in London' happy, just ... happy. It's a bit disconcerting, really, a little not quite as usual.

"There. All done, good as new." It's a nonsensical remark, all things considered. The stitches aren't going to magically fix John's arm. They'll help, yes. They're useful, absolutely. John's glad to have them.

"Very nice," he says, making sure to sound a little unimpressed, a bit like he's only saying it to humor Sherlock.

Works like a charm, of course. "Very nice? They're perfect, John." Sherlock bristles. " _Perfect._ "

"Yeah, you're a genius. Also, very modest."

"Bah," Sherlock says.

John's turn to grin. "Fine, just the first, then."


End file.
